Clary's nightmare buddy
by Rainyandbowey
Summary: Clary is emo. Jace is a ghost. And you need to come to the dark side, cuz we have cookies. Yay! :D
1. Chapter 1

**THE GHOST GIRL- CHAPTER 1**

I think i'm going crazy. I'm seeing things, my dreams are coming true, and nothing feels real. But that's not the worst thing. The worst of it is that I can talk to the dead. You would think that's cool, it would be nice to see the ones that aren't there anymore, but it isn't. Not when they haunt you, ruin your dreams. Not when they cause you to wake up screaming in the night, every night, and have done every night for almost 10 years now. It's not fair. What did I do?

(FLASHBACK)

Well damn, it's RE again. I hate it. Just the thought of the afterlife gives me the creeps. I'd heard that if you talk about ghosts enough, you can invite them in to your house. I don't want to do that. This time we're learning about: Is there such thing as poltergist activity? I hate it when we do things like this, because I believe in it all, so I just...well, I guess I just hate it more than everyone else, because they don't believe in the unded. They're so lucky. Sometimes, I get dreams about ghosts, and they turn me in to one, and then, I have to spend a never-ending length of time in nothingness. Of course, it does end, because I eventually wake up. But I dont know wha-

"Clary, are you going to answer the question?" Oh, and BTW my name is Clary. God, I hate that woman, she's our RE teacher, Mrs Brown, and she is totally nuts. She sometimes dances around the classroom waving her hands about in the air. She is SOO embarressing. Sometimes, I don't even know why I bother; to go to school, to wake up, to do anything really. Sigh.

"Sorry miss, I didn't hear the question. Please could you repeat it?"

"Why do some people make up things like poltergist activity in their homes?" She is glaring at me, red faced now, and looking like she's holding her breath.

"I, err, think tha-" There it is again; that horrible pain, in my chest, and, like always, the huge gust of cold air that always comes with it, even though no one else seemes to notice it. "I think I'm going to be sick!" I leap off my chair, overturning it with the force, and run straight for the door, but I don't stop at the toilets. I run all the way through the teachers parking area, turn the corner, and sprint in to the dark alley that leads to the front door of my house. And yet again, no one is in. I start crying, first just a few tears, and in a few minutes I am bawling, my face is soaking. And still no one actually cares about me. I have alwas been, am, and always will be, forever alone.

**A/N: This is my first story I've done alone, so it might not be as good as you would like, sorry. But I'm going to try my hardest, and I hope that, by the end of it, you will love it. This is probably not going to be the only chapter, so get ready for more ;) x**


	2. The nightmare begins

**GHOST GIRL- CHAPTER 2**

I'm asleep, and I know I am. I can tell, because it's all happening again; the running, the screaming, the endless nothingness. But tbis time, for some reason, I don't think it's going to end. I mean, I know I'm going to wake up, but I think that it will happen while I'm awake too. Will this ever end?

I'm awake now, still tired from a restless sleep, and school...wait a minute, why aren't I at school? It's the middle of the day! Why am I at home? I should be...I should remember...but I don't. I can't, and I don't know why. My memory is going. Someone is taking my soul. I walk aroud my empty house, trying to avoid all mirrors, but I forget the bathroom mirror. My face is colourless, my eyes are transparent, my expression is lifeless; the only thing left in my life with a bit of hope is my flaming red hair, in complete contrast to everythihng else. I hate my hair, it brings unwanted attention to me, even from me, and I hate that too. Or at least I think I do. I can remember my name, but I don't think I was born. I would remember being told that...well, now, no I wouldn't. I can't go back to school, it probably wouldn't hold any of my past, or help my future. The only place that I remember things in is...no, I can't go back there, I can't face the ghosts. But I have to, I have to go back.

To my dreams.

Now, I know what i'm going to do, even if I won't remember it for long. I'm making my bed, so it will be stress free- wait, screw that, nothing in my life is ever stress free. But it will be easier. I'm fluffing my pillows, hugging my favourite toys, washing myself (it always helps to be clean!), and even wearing my favourite silk pyjamas that I got when I was young- and I still fit in it. But I don't know what it will be like, what I will have to do. I am extremely nervous, more that I ever don't remember. But i've got to. I've got to. I've got to. I keep chanting that in my head while pacing the width of my bedroom, trying to build up the courage to lay down. In the end, I think, "Ugh, screw this, i'm tired. Just what I needed." So I go and lay down, and hope for the best.

I'll need it, when I start what I'm about to go through.


End file.
